


How It's Meant To Be

by TangentiaLives



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, First Date, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, every little thing, gon be all right, their whole relationship has been a slow burn, who are we even kidding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1399138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TangentiaLives/pseuds/TangentiaLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey," Stiles says, breaking the silence as he leans against the side of the Jeep, which has miraculously somehow survived everything. </p><p>"Hey," Derek replies, a ready smirk curling the edge of his mouth. He's always ready to smile when Stiles is around: it just seems to happen that way.</p><p>Again, Stiles says, "Hey." Derek waits expectantly, and Stiles pushes off the Jeep, shoving his hands into his pockets and ambling towards Derek like he's got all the time in the world.  "Do you want to get something to eat?" he asks, the quiet confidence that Derek will say yes making the timbre of his voice a little lower than usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How It's Meant To Be

**Author's Note:**

> This was brought about when I was thinking about the end of Teen Wolf, how it could be implied Sterek at the end. I was just going to write a thing where it ended with them leaving to the diner, but, well, you can see how that turned out.

It's a sunny day, cool and crisp with a beautiful spring sky when everyone disbands in the parking lot of an abandoned shopping center, where they just finished taking down a skinwalker. The Sheriff returns to the station, wrinkling his nose at the thought of more paperwork, and Melissa's on shift at the hospital, but they're planning on grilling at the Stilinski place later that night. Scott and Kira leave to go to the movies, and Lydia's doing God knows what with Jackson, who came back from London about six months ago--"For good," he says, kissing Lydia's hand in a rare display of sweet affection. Malia's helping out Mr. Yukimura at school with some kind of history project she gets all worked up talking about. (They've learned not to ask, or she'll start spouting fact about Mongolian era herbs and weaponry. "It's _Mongolia_ ," she says, as if that explains everything. It doesn't. )

So it's just Derek and Stiles left together in the parking lot, and Derek is struck at the sight Stiles presents when he really had a chance to think about it. It's not only the way he's filled out the broadness of his shoulders or the way the last of his baby fat has disappeared, leaving only sharp angles and muscle definition, but also how he's simply _older_ since the Nogitsune a year and a half ago. Derek supposes possession does that to a man--and that's what Stiles is now, no longer a gangly, flailing boy any longer. He's grown into himself and seen more than most people do in a lifetime in his eighteen years, and it shows in the scars on his body and the constantly alert way he walks, as if something could come out of the shadows and attack him any minute. But he still looks good, Derek reflects. More confident and sure of himself.

"Hey," Stiles says, breaking the silence as he leans against the side of the Jeep, which has miraculously somehow survived everything.

"Hey," Derek replies, a ready smirk curling the edge of his mouth. He's always ready to smile when Stiles is around: it just seems to happen that way.

Again, Stiles says, "Hey." Derek waits expectantly, and Stiles pushes off the Jeep, shoving his hands into his pockets and ambling towards Derek like he's got all the time in the world.  "Do you want to get something to eat?" he asks, the quiet confidence that Derek will say yes making the timbre of his voice a little lower than usual. "It can be quick. I know you probably have stuff to do."

Derek shrugs and nods at his car, the implied _get in_ obvious. It seems like the most natural thing in the world to wait for Stiles to get in the passenger side and go to the diner, where they share a milkshake and fight over the last of the curly fries.

(Stiles lets him have them, which, if nothing else, displays the fact that he might be a little bit crazy over Derek. "Next time, though," he says, threateningly pointing his straw wrapper, which droops and defeats its purpose of instilling terror, at Derek, "they're all mine, so you'd best just mourn them now. Capiche?"

"Sure," Derek smiles easily, "but you'll have to get through me again. Curly fries have always been my favorite food."

"Not protein shakes?" Stiles gasps, gripping his chest in a display of fake shock. "What has the world come to?"

Derek surprises the both of them by bursting into laughter.)

They stay there for three hours, long enough for Margaret, the waitress, to start sending them pointed looks, and the drive back to the parking lot where Stiles' jeep is parked is filled with quiet chatter about the upcoming Lacrosse BBQ that Finstock is making the players put on.

Stiles rests his hand on top of Derek's as he grips the gearshift, his fingers slotting in the valleys between Derek's own fingers. Derek doesn't say anything when he does it, and Stiles relaxes the rest of the way back into the seat. "Thanks," Derek finds himself saying when they get back to the parking lot, but he isn't surprised to find that he means it.

Stiles looks at him across the console. "Yeah," he says at last, a second or two later. "I had a good time."

And then he gets out and shuts the door, rapping on the top of the Prius in a quick _tap-tap_. He's not sad that nothing else happened, Derek tells himself, it was good for a fir--a first date. Was that what it was? He waits for the ensuing panic of forming any kind of attachment, especially romantic, to well up within him, but it never comes, because it's _Stiles_ , steady and dependable, and Stiles won't hurt him, won't flay him open and leave him alone to pick up the pieces. He knows Stiles intimately, his faults and weaknesses, and knows that he still has nightmares about what he did. They're both a little bit broken, he thinks, and maybe that's what will make the two of them so good together.

There's a rap on the driver window. Derek looks up from the steering wheel, and sees Stiles there, mouthing, "Forgot something." Arching an eyebrow, Derek rolls down the window, expecting...he doesn't know what he expects, but it wasn't Stiles bending down and curving a hand around the nape of his neck as he presses his lips to Derek's in a fleeting kiss, warm and affectionate despite its short duration.

"What'd you forget?" Derek asks after they break apart, eyes slightly wider than usual. He can still feel the phantom press of Stiles' lips against his own, soft and plush but with a tiny bit of force.

Stiles laughs, touches Derek's face affectionately with those long fingers of his. "Just that," he replies. "Want to go for a run tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Derek says, heart jumping a little. This is real, this is happening. He feels steady, feels fine, feels like this is what it's all led up to, anyways, those longs nights spent researching together and saving each others' lives for the past couple years. He gazes into smiling amber eyes, and repeats, "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

* * *

 

[Tumblr](onthehowl.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr! We can be friends and freak out about TW and hiatus and the adorableness of these two and generally everyone (even the cast, because they are unreal) together!


End file.
